In A Moment
by AVampireBride
Summary: All it took were three little moments for Rose's life to change forever... COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: With this fic I am going to try and stay as historically accurate as possible in things pertaining to the Titanic, locations, times, etc. I'd like to thank my lovely friend, Kevin, for being my editor and part inspiration through this, so this story is dedicated to him. 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar to you.

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A moment is all it takes for one's life to change forever. For many, it was the moment Titanic struck an iceberg in the Northern Atlantic that freezing April night. But for high society Rose Dewitt-Bukater, it was the moment she met Jack Dawson. The moment their eyes connected on the decks, Rose felt a twinge deep inside. Instantly her eyes darted out over the horizon, but eventually they trailed back to Jack. His fierce blue eyes pierced her soul. He saw right through the façade to see who she really was underneath all the first class finery.

Jack. Jack Dawson. The words rolled around like tumbleweeds in her head. His name sounded sweet, like honey to bees, to her starving ears. Rose longed to hear Jack's voice; she yearned for his touch. The time Rose shared with him was little but precious. She clung to those moments now like they were her lifeline. Her memories, and a promise, were all that kept her from sliding into some dark place, that kept her hanging on to what little spirit she had left in her.

Very slowly, the fire that Jack loved about her was going from flames to embers.

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The very moment Rose stepped off Carpathia's gangway onto New York City's docks, cameras snapped in her face. Family and friends of the passengers crowded her, searching for loved ones. Rose ducked into the crowds, blending in the best she knew how. She couldn't deal with the prying reporters and staring eyes. It was as if the eyes of people with lost loved ones were asking her why she was here and their loved one was not. Everyone would be full of questions, demanding answers.

'I can't believe this,' Rose thought as she watched the rest of the Third Class passengers descend the gangway. 'Even in a tragedy like this the bastards are still worried about social status and rank.'

Near the edge of the crowd, a shiny black Renault trimmed in gold stood in all its glory, waiting for its passengers. Rose watched from the shadows cast by one of the city's many skyscrapers. From the masses emerged Caledon Hockley and Ruth DeWitt-Bukater. Rose pressed herself against the brick building, willing herself to become invisible. As far as her former fiancé and mother were concerned, Rose DeWitt-Bukater had perished on the Titanic. Rose Dawson was alive and well. If a caterpillar could become a butterfly, if the unsinkable ship could now be lying at the bottom of the Atlantic, would it really be so hard for Rose to transform into somebody else?

No, Rose decided. It was possible.

Rose stayed in the shadows until the massive crowds began to thin. All the crew were ashore now and had gone.

"Rose!"

Rose's head jerked around when she heard her name being called. For a moment she was fearful that her mother saw her. Her pumping heart slowed when she saw it was Molly Brown who came calling. Rose peeled her body off the side of the building as Molly approached.

"Good heavens, child! You look a positively terrifying sight," said Molly, trying her best to imitate the other First Class passengers.

"Mrs. Brown, I thought you would be gone by now."

"I stayed aboard until everyone else descended. My language skills were a major helpful asset, I wager. I'm waiting for my son to arrive. Why aren't you with your mother and fiancé?" wondered the fellow survivor. Molly occupied lifeboat 6, the same as Ruth, Rose's mother.

"Oh no. Please don't tell them you have seen me. My mother thinks me to be dead and if you please I wish to keep it this way," pleaded Rose.

"Your secret is safe with me, honey," Molly promised. "Your mother never went out of her way to make me feel comfortable and accepted. If I never see Ruth or Cal Hockley again, God help me it will be too soon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Brown. This means the world to me."

"Call me Molly. Are you staying with anyone?"

"No. The only people I know are associated with Mother and Cal."

"That settles it. You'll come with me. I have plenty of room to spare."

"I couldn't…" Rose began.

"Yes, you can. I can offer you a place to hide from the media, the questions, and the rumors surrounding all of this. It would be an honor if you would be my guest, Rose."

Finally Rose agreed. Molly noticed the Dawson boy was no where to be found. Surely he hadn't deserted Rose after all they went through? The only acceptable answer Molly could think of was the worst possible one. She concluded it would be best to wait and let Rose talk about these matters in her own time.

Molly's son, Lawrence, arrived at the docks as the rest of the crowd dissipated into the city, leaving only those with nobody there to meet them and nowhere to go. Mrs. Brown tucked Rose's arm into her own as Lawrence escorted the two of them to their waiting vehicle. On the way to the Brown residence, Rose was mostly quiet. She watched out the window as the streets and buildings of New York City gradually melted together. She tried to think of things other than Titanic, but everything led back to Jack somehow. Molly chattered away about her home, keeping the subject of Titanic in the distance. They would hear enough of that in the weeks to come. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. Its just a carry over from chapter one to chapter three. Next one is going to be much longer! Again, thanks to Kevin for his editing, etc. 3

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot and any new characters not familiar to you.

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During the entire time Margaret Brown was giving the young woman a tour of her home, Rose felt as if she was holding her breath. Molly lived in a grand home like all of those Rose was so used to. This was what she was trying to escape.

"And this," Molly swept open large double doors which led to a fantastically decorated suite. "Is your room."

Mrs. Brown stood just inside the doors, waving her arm out as if to show the room off to Rose. Gingerly Rose stepped into the room. The plush carpet below her feet was a lavender color. The sconces on the wall were a simple design, yet elegant. Rose's eyes traced from the floor, up the walls, back down and to the bed. The bed was a four poster and had a silk canopy that draped down into covers which could be pulled shut for privacy. It was more luxurious looking than any bed in any hotel or home Rose had been a guest in before.

"Molly..." Rose began.

"Yes?"

"I can't stay here... perhaps you have an empty servant's room? I would feel much more comfortable there."

"Don't be silly! You are an honored guest and as one you will board in this room as long as you stay."

There they were again. Orders. Her entire life Rose was made to follow one order after another. Mostly from her mother. "Go to your room, Rose!" "Go think about what you've done, Rose!" "Rose, put on a brave face." "You must marry Caledon, Rose. Its our only hope."

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" roared Rose.

Molly looked at Rose for a moment as though she had some deadly, and contagious, disease. She wasn't sure what she should do. Rose had gone through so much more then she had that night. What she must have seen, heard, and done... when the time was right Molly knew Rose would tell her what she wanted to tell. But only when the time was right and when Rose was ready.

When Rose saw this look, she gathered her wits and apologized.

"I'm sorry, Molly. My mother and her commands won't leave me be."

"Well, then, I shall. Dinner will be served at six. We don't announce it like a cavalry charge around here," laughed Molly.

Rose smiled the best she could. Molly was trying to make her laugh, get her out of the stupor she was living in. She felt it was only polite to try to humor Molly and smile. It was the least she could do after the generosity the woman was showing her. The older woman showed herself out, quietly closing the double doors behind her. Rose surrendered, drawing out a sigh of relief. She collapsed onto the bed, pulling shut the curtains until she would be called to dinner. She wasn't going to worry about her life and what she would do now. Her next move would remain unplanned and unscripted until she had rest and food in her stomach. Maybe then she could think properly. 


	3. Chapter 3

The days following Carpathia's arrival became carbon copies of the day before. Every day was the same for Rose. She spent the majority of the time sleeping. With the remainder, Rose stared into space, mumbling under her breath to no one in particular. On more than one occasion Margaret stood in the hallway outside Rose's suite listening to her sing "Come Josephine." The song had been a hit when it was first released. Rose sang it over and over like she had just heard it for the first time. Molly's numerous attempts to engage Rose in some sort of activity usually failed. Despite how unsociable Rose grew, Molly still told Rose where she was going everyday and what she would be doing. And everyday Rose remained silent and unresponsive.

"I'm going to the hearings for a few hours, Rose. I'll be back this afternoon," Margaret called from the hallway. She knew not to expect an answer. She lingered only for a moment before heading down the hallway to the foyer.

"Molly?" A meek voice uttered.

Turning on her heel Molly stood where she stopped. "What is it?"

"What day is it?"

"May 16th, honey."

"May already? I've been here for a full month?"

"Yes. You have."

Silence.

"Is the sun shining?"

"The sun is shining and it is a beautiful day."

"Will you wait for a moment?"

"Sure. I'll just be in the parlor." Mrs. Brown heard a door click shut.

Several minutes later Rose appeared in the doorway to the parlor. She was dressed in one of the gowns Molly had a seamstress make for her. The teenager had slimmed down quite a bit over the last month or so from eating very little, so her former measurements were incorrect. The dress's cut, however, showed off Rose's body in all the right places; it hugged her newly formed curves.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" wondered Molly.

"Don't you need to attend the hearings?"

Margaret shook her head 'no.' Rose agreed to take a walk. Outside, on the streets of New York, Rose received stares for not wearing a hat or donning gloves. The young woman didn't care. She stared back at the onlookers.

Mrs. Brown couldn't help but be amused. Silence continued between them for a few blocks. Rose startled Molly when she began speaking.

"Jack has been gone for a month, Molly. An entire month. How am I suppose to live my life without him by my side?"

Molly Brown was so surprised Rose brought up the subject. All of New York and the world talked of nothing but Titanic. In the guest suite of the Brown residence, it was off limits. Now here was the subject laid out on the table just like that.

"Jack is gone. He's not coming back. Before he… before he… one of the last things he said to me was a promise he wanted me to make to him. I gave him my word I would do what he wanted me to. It was his last wish and, Molly, I'm not keeping my promise to Jack."

"Jack was a good man. I admired him. I'm so sorry, Rose."

"He was better then any first class man on that ship. He had higher morals and values then any of them. He knew what life was really about. I loved him more then I ever thought possible. More then I have ever loved anything or anyone. Jack was too good for this earth. He was…is… an angel."

"What are you going to do now?" questioned Molly. She wanted to smack herself. All the questions she wanted to ask and that was the best she could come up with? The two of them strolled along. No one else on the streets would know them to be Titanic survivors. Mrs. Brown was in the newspaper a couple of times but nobody out today noticed her true identity.

"I don't know yet. But I made Jack a promise and I intend on keeping it from now on. I owe him that at least."

"May I ask what the promise was?"

Rose shook her head. "I'm sorry, Molly. I can't tell you yet."

Molly tried to help Rose find a job after her request later on in the week. Despite having Margaret Brown as a reference, none of the businesses would hire Rose for her lack of work skills. Molly decided to hire Rose herself. For months she meant to organize the books in her husband's study. She resolved it would be a perfect job for Rose. The younger woman consented to categorize Molly's books, but only after an extensive search for some outside employment failed miserably. The immigrants who decided to stay in the city snatched any jobs available in New York after Titanic sank.

Rose stayed up late at night long after everyone was asleep. She formulated her plan; a plan to follow Jack's promise. Rose racked her brain figuring out how she would accomplish what she wanted to achieve. One thing she knew for certain. Rose was going to fight for what she wanted, no matter what anyone thought, said, or did.

When Rose completed organizing Molly's library, Mrs. Brown found other small tasks for Rose to do around the house as well as errands to run. Over time Rose saved enough money to move out on her own. Secretly Rose bought various items she thoughts she would need to survive by herself. Several simple gowns similar to those worn by other "common" people were included in this. Rose wanted to blend in. Her features were those of a high society daughter, so she needed all the help she could find.

On a humid summer night in July, just three months after Titanic's sinking, Rose was relaxing on the chaise in the study. She had already selected a novel from the many shelves of books, all bound in leather. The seventeen year old was midway through the first chapter when a sudden realization overcame her. Quickly Rose sat up, her back rigid and straight. The novel fell from Rose's hands where she'd been clutching it. Rose watched the book fall as if in slow motion. Her jaw dropped, her eyes grew wide. Molly stepped into the room just as the book landed with a loud thud on the floor below.

"Rose? Are you all right? You are as white as a bed linen!" Molly declared.

Rose's hand flew to her lips. Could it really be? She couldn't believe it until someone… a professional… proved it to be true. All the signs were pointing in the right direction. Why hadn't she realized before? 'I was too busy being solemn,' Rose thought. 'I was too caught up in myself to even realize it!'

"I need to go and see someone, Molly. First thing tomorrow."

"Who, honey?"

"A doctor." 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here it is, Chapter four! I think my attempts at staying as historically accurate as possible have gone down the drain. Oh well. I'm starting to enjoy this fic more.

Disclaimer: Alas, I still own nothing.

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Early the next morning, Rose was up before the sun. Her sleep was mostly restless. A million thoughts raced through her head. Rose paced the floors, back and forth from the dressing table to the wardrobe. When she got nervous Rose had a tendency to bite her lip. Now she was so high-strung her lips were bitten and on the verge of bleeding.

At length Molly woke. Rose heard her moving about in her room. She traipsed down the corridor to Mrs. Brown's suite, and then knocked on one of the doors.

"I'm ready," called Rose.

"It is not yet eight in the morning. The doctor's office doesn't open until nine. Go find something to do and would you tell Cook to put on some tea?"

Rose heaved a heavy sigh. She ran her hand through her uncombed fire red tangle.

"Sure, Mrs. Brown."

As the footsteps receded from her door, Molly opened one silently and peeked out. Mrs. Brown? When had Rose reformed to formals again? Margaret sighed slightly and shook her head. She hoped dearly she wasn't losing Rose to her solemnity again. She was finally coming around, starting to enjoy the day rather then dreading it. She still grieved for Jack, Molly doubted she would ever get over his loss, but there was a time and a place to put losses aside and continue on with one's life. Losing the love of one's life can be the biggest tragedy one may go through, Molly knew that. But all those people lost entire families and all their friends in the matter of a few hours. Rose needed to get on with things. When would she see that? Rose still had her mother, though she had not talked to her or seen her since the day Carpathia arrived in the city. Since that April day when Titanic sank, everyone had given up something or someone, whether it was a dream or a lover. Rose may not have had her lover with her at that moment, but she still had her dreams. Molly was determined to make her see such. Margaret Brown closed her door after Rose disappeared around the corner and went back to her vanity.

Nine o'clock could not come soon enough for Rose.

"Are you ready, Rose?" Molly wondered as she entered the foyer. Once again Rose was pacing the floor, back and forth, in front of the entry. "You ought to stop that. You'll give me a headache just watching you."

"Let's go," Rose said, yanking open a door.

"Don't you need a coat?"

"Its July, Mrs. Brown."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Let's get on with it then."

Mrs. Brown wanted to walk to the doctor's office but Rose resolved a car ride would get them to their destination faster. 'The quicker the better, ' she thought.

The silence between them was all too familiar to Margaret. She so dreaded riding with Rose anywhere in a vehicle. She was always eerily quiet, staring out the window, lost somewhere in the depths of her mind. When they were in a car Rose could escape Molly's questions and be alone. When they were walking, Rose had to face the older woman. Molly didn't care. She needed to know.

"Rose, honey?"

No answer. Not even the slightest movement.

"Rose," Molly said more sternly.

There. A flinch.

"Rose, I know you can hear me. And I want you to listen. I don't know why you are calling me Mrs. Brown again, but you and I both know Jack isn't coming back. He is lost to you forever but your dreams are not. Just because Mr. Dawson is not here physically to help you make them come true does not mean he isn't here spiritually with you. But if you believe he isn't, then he won't help you. Not everyone is so lucky to have a guardian angel looking over him or her. You have two. Mr. Dawson and your father are both up there together looking down upon you and they want you to get on with your life. It won't mean forgetting their memory, it will mean you are honoring it by moving but still thinking about them from time to time. Now I don't care if you don't want to talk to me right now but someday you've got to recognize this and get on with things. You're only seventeen and if you plan on living your life like this it is going to be a long, sad time."

Rose had, indeed, heard Molly. Every word. She didn't acknowledge hearing her speech but kept her body still. As Rose watched the scenery roll by, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she realized she Margaret was saying was true. Jack wasn't coming back to her. He was gone. He met her father and they were together now. Mr. Dewitt-Bukater knew Jack was his little girl's soul mate. Was it her father who sent Jack to her in the first place? Could it have been? Maybe her father knew she was about to marry Cal and he couldn't bear to see his daughter living a life like that.

'Thank you, Papa, for Jack. Even if the time I had with him was short-lived. I loved him so very much,' Rose thought. 'I can't be so angry and bitter any more. Every time one man becomes the love of my life he is taken from me. First Papa and now Jack. Maybe…' Rose's thoughts trailed off. She was jerked back to reality when the car stopped abruptly in front of the hospital.

"We are here," announced the driver.

"Thank you, Stedman," Molly replied. "We may be a while so you can bring the car home. Rose and I will fetch a cab."

"Yes, Mrs. Brown," said the old man. He tipped his hat in a "good day" to the women as they piled out of the car. As the Renault drove off, leaving Rose and Molly in front of the hospital, Rose stared up at the great old red brick building. This was it. The answer to her future lay behind the doors. Molly paused, the hospital's front door open midway.

"Are you coming?" she questioned.

"Sorry. I was thinking," Rose said.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," was her reply. Rose looked at Molly for a moment before slipping past the rich woman into the hospital lobby. The secretary behind the service desk watched them approach.

"May I help you?"

"Where is Dr. Mercer's office, ma'am?" asked Molly.

"Down the hall, take a right at the end, and his office is the fourth door on the left."

"Thank you, miss," replied Mrs. Brown. The secretary smiled an all-knowing smile. There were only two reasons why someone would go see Dr. Mercer, and she eliminated the second reason almost the moment the two women walked in the door. She was certain they were there for the younger of the two, possibly the daughter of the older woman. They looked like they could be mother and daughter.

Dr. Mercer was a man in his late thirties/early forties. He was extremely friendly and kind to Rose when she entered his office. He looked remarkably a lot like Mr. Andrews, Master Shipbuilder of Titanic. Rose missed him. She looked in the papers for any news of his survival but deep down aboard the Carpathia she knew he was gone like so many others. It was the duty of a shipbuilder to go down with his ship, much like the captain, should he be aboard. 'So many good people lost,' thought Rose. 'Poor Mr. Andrews… he was so wonderful to me.'

"So what may I help you with today, Miss Dawson?" he asked. Molly, at Rose's request, stayed in the waiting area while she talked to the doctor. Rose broke down and told the doctor her story. He nodded along and said he understood completely. He explained to Rose the tests he would be performing. He asked her if she understood all that would take place. Rose assured him she did. With that, Dr. Mercer drew her blood and did everything else he said he would do. "I'll take this to the lab to be tested. It may be awhile before we get the results back. Would you like to wait or do you want me to send you a telegram when we get the results?"

"I'll wait, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Would you like to me to call in your mother?"

"She's not my mother."

"Your grandmother? An aunt?"

"No, sir. She's Margaret Brown, just a friend."

"THE Margaret Brown?"

"Yes, sir. The one and only."

"You must introduce us! I mean… only if you wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all."

"I'll just have Mary, my secretary, run these to the lab then."

Dr. Mercer rang a small bell and Mary appeared at the door.

"Yes sir?"

"Run these to the lab for me and let me know the instant they get the results."

"Of course, Doctor."

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

The doctor offered Rose his elbow. Rose stared at it for a moment. Memories flooded her mind of that night… The doctor looked from his arm to Rose. "I don't bite, Miss Dawson."

"My apologies, Dr. Mercer. I was only remembering something." Rose took the doctor's offered arm and he escorted her to the waiting room so he could meet the one and only Margaret Brown.

Dr. Mercer was captivated by Molly. She was taken by him. She even allowed him to call her Molly, which was something she only let her closest family and friends do. Rose sat apart from the two of them, watching them converse back and forth. She giggled to herself at how silly respectable adults could be. The time passed so quickly nobody realized what time it truly was. When Mary came into the room, Rose was the only one to notice. Quickly she rose to her feet.

"I have Miss Dawson's results, Dr. Mercer." The conversation between the doctor and the millionaire ceased instantly.

"Thank you, Mary," Dr. Mercer said, taking the envelope from his secretary's hand. He ripped open the seal and read to himself the result.

"Well?" said Molly and Rose at the same time.

Dr. Mercer looked from one woman to the other before his eyes settled on Rose. "Miss Dawson, you are three months pregnant."

Heat rose up Rose's spine and into her cheeks. Her suspicion was finally confirmed. No longer did she have to worry or wonder about the answer. Rose felt eyes on her. She glanced up and saw Margaret and Mercer both looking at her intently. "Thank you, Doctor. You have confirmed my greatest joy."

"Congratulations! Where is the father to be?"

"Dr. Mercer—" began Molly.

"Molly, its okay. I can handle this." When Rose told the doctor her story, she left out the part of Jack dying. She only told him she thought she may be pregnant from the result of their rendezvous together. Now was as good as time as any to tell the doctor and Molly. "Dr. Mercer, my child's father was killed the night the Ship of Dreams sank. He has answered my prayers and I am eternally thankful to him."

Rose turned to Mrs. Brown. "Molly, you must keep this between us. I thought I was through needing your assistance but I may need it a little longer then I thought. "

"Rose, you know you are allowed to stay with me as long as you want. I think of you as my daughter. I would be honored to help you and my silence can be counted on."

"Thank you, Molly, and thank you, Dr. Mercer. I believe I shall be seeing more of you in the future."

"I look forward to it Rose."

Outside it had begun to rain, something nobody expected in July. What had once been a searing hot day had become cool and refreshing. The teenager told Molly to take a taxi home. Rose wanted to walk and assured Margaret she would be fine. After Molly left, Rose grasped her stomach with her two hands and turned her face to the sky. The rain fell upon her skin softly as if to wash away any fears about the future she might have had. It washed away her former life to let the new in.

"Thank you, Jack. For everything you have given me." 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: You haven't given up on me yet have you? I've been so busy with work and my online classes… but enough excuses! Here's chapter five at last! 

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own anything related to Titanic, etc.

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She licked her lips, feeling the droplets of the refreshing rain. The water was washing away her past. Rose DeWitt-Bukater was finally at rest; Rose Dawson stood here in New York City. She had a life quickening in her belly, a renewed spirit, and the will to go on. Molly was right about so many things. Rose was a fool to think she herself had been right all along. Where was she really getting laying around talking to herself? Rose closed her eyes, the thoughts running around in her head at peace. Her thought was only of Jack, what he would think, what he would say, what he would do if Rose told him she was pregnant with his child. A slow smile crossed her face for the first time since Titanic. Rose could imagine how Jack would respond. He wouldn't run and hide. Jack would do the right thing. He always did what was right.

Rose opened her eyes. The mist clung to her lashes. She held her arms open wide, as if expecting a hug from some stranger on the street.

"I'm here and I'm living, Jack! I'm going to carry on your legacy through your child. Our baby."

'Our baby…Jack's child…' Rose thought. Oh, how she loved the sound of that! While most people didn't have the slightest clue who Jack Dawson was, he would live on through the baby.

The people around her ran for cover as the ran began to pound down onto the city. Most of them were men and boys. They used their newly bought papers to cover their heads. The ink ran together, smearing the words that once covered the pages. Too caught up in their own worlds, none of them seem to notice the young woman talking to the sky. They didn't have time to think her eccentric or in need of a check-up at the local insanity hospital.

The teenager laughed a laugh that comes from deep within, from her soul. Oh, people were always in a hurry. None of them really knew what they had. Nobody ever knew until it was gone. The survivors from the Titanic knew how she felt. They grasped onto whatever they had left after their dream ship sank.

A more solemn Rose drew a deep breath, her cheeks puffing out. She released the air from her lungs, moving her thoughts along as she moved on along the sidewalk. Sometimes one had to go through the bad things to get to any of the good. The beginning of Rose's life had been the best part of it so far. Her father was alive and well. Rose's mother, Ruth, held a jealous grudge to her daughter. Was it possible her husband loved their daughter more then he loved his own wife? Ruth never wanted children but William wouldn't rest until they had one. After Rose was born she was the apple of her father's eye. They were inseparable until the day he died. Ruth hated that. She tried to blame William's death on Rose but she was oblivious. When Jack floated into her life, Rose was truly happy for the first time in ages.

She could imagine how he would look now, after being told. His shaggy blond hair looking unruly, hanging down in his gorgeous, ocean-blue eyes. It was Jack's eyes that Rose loved so much. Everything about him was beautiful but there was something about his eyes which made Rose want to get lost in them. She did, several times, in those few short days they had together. And, of course, he would smile his million dollar smile that any girl would melt upon seeing. Aboard the ship Jack charmed all the First Class ladies down from their high horses. He even had some of them giggling behind their fans like giddy schoolgirls. All except Ruth accepted Jack for who they thought he was, what they wanted to believe he was. Ruth was a different story. She looked at Jack only as a threat, like a pesky insect that ought to be squashed before it could do any more harm than already caused. Rose hated Ruth for that. Jack was conscious of this but wasn't concerned. He didn't need Ruth DeWitt-Bukater's blessings to get him through life.

The park was deserted. The grass glistened with freshness and the drops of rain which clung to the blades. The tree limbs were heavy with beautiful green leaves, full of life. Rose didn't think it was possible she could ever feel full of life again, not after her great loss. But with the gift Jack had given her, his lasting memory on earth, how could she not? Rose didn't truly think Jack would want her to live out her life like she had been. Rose bent down, wiping the rain water off a bench. She pulled the old coat she had bought from a second hand store around her a little closer. In the July heat most people didn't wear heavy coats. Rose wasn't like most people. She wanted them all to leave her alone and she hoped by wearing a coat like that it made her look unapproachable. Molly saw through her facade, as did Jack that April day, and knew that deep inside Rose was yelling for attention. Rose watched as the birds swooped in, covering the grass. The dozens of them looked like a black blanket covering the ground as they pecked about for the earth worms.

'Well' she though. 'My plan is going to be put on hold. It must be rough to travel when pregnant. I can just imagine... Molly did say I could stay as long as I needed. But I feel like I've taken advantage of her for so long already. Maybe it would be easier to travel while pregnant then with a newborn...'

Rose decided to not put her plan on hold. She decided the sooner she left Molly's the better. She hated to leave her friend, as Molly was the only true friend Rose had. But things were changing, Rose was changing, and she need a change of location. Rose jumped up from the bench and almost ran the entire way back to Mrs. Brown's. When Rose burst through the front door without waiting for Stedman to open it, she nearly knocked the older man over with surprise. She quickly glanced at the clock. 5:30 P.M. She still had time to change and make it to dinner... and to think about how she would tell Margaret. Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph... how WOULD she tell Molly?

Rose entered the dining room far less enthusiastically then when she came in the house. Stedman pulled out a chair at the opposite end from where Molly was sitting, waiting patiently for Rose. Rose took the seat offered to her. Silently she placed her folded napkin into her lap before sitting motionless. Molly studied Rose for a moment before beginning the evening meal prayers.

"... Amen," Rose repeated after Molly was through.

"Is there something you would like to talk about tonight, Rose? Do you feel all right? You are being awfully quiet."

"I'm fine, thank you. T-there... there's something I ought to tell you. Something I need to tell you."

Margaret's fork stopped halfway between her plate and her open mouth. She carefully set it back down on her plate, placing her hands in her lap. "What is it?"

"I've been planning to move out for some time now but then we found out today I am with child and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to stay with you for a while longer. But I don't think so now. Jack would want me to continue on with my plans. Our plans. I hate to leave you and Lawrence and everybody because you all have been so kind to me. You're my best friend, in fact. Thank you for sharing your home with me, Molly."

"Well, this is quite the development! We'll miss you, for certain, Rose. I know I shall. If you believe you are doing the right thing for you and your child than you have my support without a doubt."

"Thank you, Molly. You have no idea how much this has meant to me."

Rose could breathe for the rest of the meal and the conversation between the two friends flowed continuously without any awkward pauses. She spent that July night packing up what was left of her life into two small suitcases. Stedman placed them next to the front door to wait until morning.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter wasn't edited, so my apologies ahead of time for any errors you may see!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Titanic, historically and non, nor do I own any of James Cameron's characters, etc.

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Early the next morning, while Molly was still asleep, Rose crept down the wide staircase to the foyer. Stedman stood next to the large double doors which served as the home's entrance. He looked sharp in his chauffeur uniform as usual. Every time Rose caught a glimpse of Molly's butler she wanted to laugh. He looked so serious and stern in his penguin suit but Rose knew Stedman's fun side. Her stubborn part kept Rose from admitting to anyone how much she would miss the old butler.

"Are you prepared to leave, Miss Rose?"

At the foot of the stairs, Rose paused to look around the Brown residence for a final time. Molly changed her so much since the day she brought Rose home with her. Like Jack, the changes were for the better. Very slowly Rose shook her head.

"Yes, I am. Do you think…"

The chauffer looked at the teenager with his usual face. "Yes, miss?"

"Never mind. Its nothing. Let us be off."

Stedman tucked both of the small suitcases under one arm as he used the other to open the door for Rose. He followed the young woman out to the shining Renault with gold trim that sat in the driveway. Rose opened the door for herself. Stedman was used to the strange antics Rose developed, though he still found them queer. So many people would give anything to have the high-class life Rose led. Molly was offering it to the girl but Rose turned it down without a second thought. Stedman admired the youngster for wanting to make her own way in life, to leave her mark on the world. She still had a long way to go and much to learn. With people who believed in her, Rose knew she was bound to do anything she wanted to do, achieve any goal she set for herself.

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Margaret Brown rolled over in her large downy bed. She wiped the sleep from her eyes as the sun streamed in through the partly spread drapes. She drew on her dressing gown as she rose from the bed. Molly noticed a slip of white on her vanity. She crossed the wooden floor, picking up the piece of paper.

"Dear Molly, Words cannot begin to describe my gratitude and debt to you. I wish to express my deepest thanks for all you have done for me, and all you did for Jack. Before I meet him I was stuck on a train I couldn't get off because I was being forced to marry the monster. Now I am on a train to my new life. It is without Jack but I must carry on in the best way I know how. I will forward my new address to you when I arrive.

Rose Dawson"

Outside Molly heard a door slam shut preceded by another. Mrs. Brown stood in the sunlight coming in through the window. She felt its beams warm her cheeks. She watched her trusty chauffer take the young girl out of her life. Rose's way of leaving was not surprising in the least. She did it the simplest way she knew how. Molly was sure she herself would have done the same thing. She hated saying goodbye. In the past few months Rose had said goodbye to nearly everything that was near and dear to her.

Margaret Brown eyed the vehicle until it disappeared into the city streets. Cars and carriages passed by her home, carrying on with normal life as though nothing had happened. The socialite was certain the note she held in her hand would not be the last time she heard from the young woman. She knew Rose would bring the child to see her and, like the note said, Rose would give Molly her new address. She could always go see Rose and her baby herself. Molly had an idea where she was going. In private only the week before Rose finally told Mrs. Brown about part of the conversation Jack and she had been having before they were interrupted from their spitting lesson by Ruth, Molly, and the Countess.

"Goodbye for now, Rose," Margaret Brown uttered. "Don't forget to keep your promise to Jack, to your father, and to me. I'm so sorry Mr. Dawson was taken from this world and most importantly, you. Life isn't fair but in the end we all must move on. Jack was a greater man than any First Class aristocrat. Farewell for now, Miss Rose. Farewell."

-----------------------------

As the train sped forward to Rose's destination, she envisioned the night she nearly jumped off the back of the Titanic. For so long she felt trapped in a world she didn't want to be a part of. Finally Rose had to get away to escape some how. So she ran. And she ran. Rose needed to get away. But even the largest ship in the world wasn't big enough to escape. Rose hit the back railing and there wasn't any more ship. Before she knew it she was over the back rail. She would show them. But Jack jumped in just in time and saved her life in more ways then one. He didn't dismiss her dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head. Her dreams meant something to him, a stranger she just meet, and he wanted to help her make them come true.

Jack treated her like a real person, a human being. No one could possibly know how much it meant to her. He taught her so much in those few short days. Jack showed Rose how she could head out to the horizon whenever she wished. She didn't need to receive permission from her mother or Caledon Hockley. She didn't need to worry what other people thought because now she was just like them. She was Rose Dawson, self-said widow to Jack Dawson, Titanic victim and the most amazing man in the world.

"Jack…" whispered Rose. For all of her life Rose would never tire of hearing his name spoken aloud. Even if the topic wasn't of a certain artist she fell in love with. Rose feel into a deep slumber as memories filled her head and the train rumbled along the tracks.

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"… I have nothing to offer you, Rose, and I know that. But I'm too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowing that you'll be all right."

The fiery young woman felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted so badly to rush into this man's arms and forget everything. He did that too her. But that wasn't the reality she was living. It wasn't logical. Jack was open and real… unlike all of the stuck up snobs in her life.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. Really," she assured. But inside Rose knew Jack didn't believe her. She had a hard time believing herself.

"I don't think so. They've got you trapped, Rose. You're going to die if you don't break out. Maybe not right away because you're strong. But sooner or later the fire I love about you is going to burn out."

Jack stroked her cheek with his thumb, his hand cupping her face. Rose wanted to stay in that moment, to feel his skin against hers. She could live like that, feeling truly loved and wanted, for the rest of her life.

'Please say it again,' she wanted to plead. 'Please say what you love about me again, Jack. I need to hear it so badly. Take me away from this world, please, and help me! I know you can Jack… you're Jack Dawson…'

"It's not up to you to save me, Jack," Rose blurted. Jack moved his hand away, stung by her words.

"You're right. Only you can do that…"

"I'm going back. Leave me alone." Rose left the gym swiftly, leaving the space before Jack empty. Leaving him empty. Even after everything, she still wouldn't leave Cal… Jack bowed his head, biting his lip, feeling defeated. It wasn't over yet…

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"Next stop, Santa Monica, California!" bellowed the conductor. He walked up and down the aisles of the passenger cars shouting it out over and over. "Santa Monicaaa!"

Rose's eyes snapped open, her dream ended. She rubbed the sleepiness from her eyelids, setting about gathering her things.

When the train pulled to stop in front of the Californian depot, Rose stood on the stairs, ready to descend. The salty ocean air blew her red curls about, taking her back to those days… 'No, Rose! Stay here and now!' she commanded herself. Rose Dawson stepped onto the wooden platform, ready to start her new life freshly. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: My apologies for the long wait... I had my baby five weeks ago and he is pretty much my life now.

* * *

Rose Dawson walked the streets of Santa Monica. This city was completely unknown to her. She knew only what Jack told her; for all she knew she could have been in Denmark. Instead of getting a cab to take her to the nearest hotel or boarding house, Rose decided she would explore the city on her own, find a place on her own. The whole point was for her to be on her own, right? Not to depend on Mother or Cal any more. They were out of her life. Margaret Brown was a major influence and had been so kind to Rose by offering her jobs. And Rose would never forget. But now she was going to stand on her own two feet for herself and her baby… their baby. Rose nearly sank into her dream land again but snapped back to reality.

"You're not going to make it on your own two feet if you don't have a roof over your head first, dummy!" she told herself. Rose shook her head, picked up her baggage, and strode out of the Santa Monica train depot like she knew exactly where she was going. People milled about her, going in every which way, but Rose steadily walked forward. She followed the sun rays that were left, cast from the setting sun. After walking a few blocks she found herself on one of the piers, viewing the sunset. Purples, pinks, and oranges all clashed together to make one great portrait. The California sky at dusk was so beautiful it took Rose's breath away. The wind blew in her eyes, making her red curls fly around her face, flapping her dress about her legs. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salt air, the wind blowing around her. Once again she was taken back to a moment she wanted to live in forever…

"Miss? Are you in need of some assistance, miss?"

Rose turned abruptly, nearly falling off the wooden pier. She was startled by a man in his mid twenties wearing suspenders over his stark white shirt and a hat like Fabrizio's. He caught her arm in case she fell backwards again.

"No… thank you. I am fine. I was just…" Rose released her arm from his grasp, shocked at the physical contact yet pleased by his concern.

"Yes, miss?"

"I was enjoying the salt air."

The man laughed. "You must be new to the area. Most resident citizens don't stand on piers smelling the air."

Rose's cheeks flushed a color to match her burning hair. A shy smile crossed her lips. "I just arrived, actually. From New York."

"A New Yorker, eh? Well you're friendlier then most I've encountered myself."

"Oh? I'm not from New York originally…"

"Hm. Would you like to get a cup of coffee? Get off the pier so you don't come close to falling in again?"

"Of course. I would love too. I'm Rose, by the way. Rose Dawson."

"Harry Calvert. Nice to meet you."

"It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Calvert."

"Please, call me Harry. Mr. Calvert was my father."

"Was?"

"He passed last year."

"I'm very sorry to hear such news. My father is gone as well."

"So we have at least one thing in common! But enough of this ever depressing chitchat.," declared Harry. "Let us go find this café, shall we?"

"We shall."

Harry offered Rose his arm. She was fixated on it like his hand was a snake ready to bite. He looked so much like Jack it was frightening. Rose wasn't sure she could trust herself with a complete stranger. Last time it happened she found herself deeply in love with what she thought was the wrong person. She was supposed to love Cal, wasn't she? But she didn't and Jack caught her when she was falling. Rose knew in her heart she could never find another Jack, and Harry wouldn't replace him. However, she could see herself being happy again with someone. Maybe that someone could be Harry. He could treat her the way she needed to be treated.

"I don't bite. I promise. You can trust me, Rose."

Rose, startled, focused on Harry's vibrant blue eyes, another of his features so shockingly similar to Jack's.

"I know, Harry, it's just…"

"Yes?"

"You look like someone I knew once. That's all."

Harry Calvert tucked Rose's arm under his own, and patted her hand like she was a small child who needed comforting.

"I'm honored to have met you today, Miss Rose. It is truly a blessing to know someone as yourself."

"You barely know me, Harry. But if you can judge my character so quickly with that as your conclusion then I thank you from the very bottom of my soul."

Rose learned more about Harry Calvert over the next few hours over three cups of coffee split between the two of them. Thus far in his life Harry fulfilled everything he set out to do. Now he found himself in California at twenty-five years of age with no particular goal or desire. He was enjoying his time. He thought Rose to have a great gumption to be a mere seventeen and this far from home alone, which he assumed was New York since she mentioned it. Rose pointed out to him she didn't have a home, not a true one anyway. Not yet. Rose shared facts about herself she felt she was ready to share, facts about her life that wouldn't make Harry want to run in the opposite direction. This left out several things, but mostly Titanic, Cal, Jack, and her pregnancy. Time would help Rose expose the things she wanted to share when it was right.

Their beverages gone, Harry escorted Rose to a low-cost yet very clean hotel. Several of the cheap hotels were so dirty Harry didn't want Rose to see that side of the city. She would discover it herself in the days to come. He decided to let her enjoy her first day in a new place, her first day of freedom and independence. Once Rose was settled in her room, Harry decided to excuse himself.

"Will I see you again, Harry? You know where I am staying."

A smile spread across Harry's lovely face. Rose made the decision it was a very lovely face indeed. One she enjoyed gazing at.

"Of course, Miss Rose. Very soon, I should think."

Harry came by several times the first week Rose was in Santa Monica. On the fourth day he told Rose he had found an empty apartment near where he lived she could rent, and on the sixth day he accompanied Rose in moving into her new home. The attraction between the two friends was growing with leaps and bounds. Rose felt herself wanting to see Harry more and more every day. At first she felt like she would be betraying Jack if she let herself get close to another man. But then she always remember their promise. She had to go on and make lots of babies! How could she do that alone? And how could she tell Harry she was already pregnant? It may drive him away. Who would want to take on a pregnant mother, that kind of responsibility?

'Don't be stupid, Rose,' she told herself. 'Harry is different and you know that! He's not going to run away and leave you to rot like yesterday's tomato sandwich. He wouldn't do that!'

He wouldn't, would he? No. No he wouldn't. After about two weeks of going back and forth between each other's apartments, Rose knew it was time. She was beginning to show and Harry, without a doubt, would begin to wonder why she was gaining weight so quickly.

One night, towards the end of her second week being in California, Rose invited Harry over to her new apartment for a light supper before they would catch a local play. Over roasted ham and cream corn, she would tell him. It took Rose all day to find the courage to tell him. Harry arrived promptly at six o'clock, right on time, just like always. Rose let him in, but he knew she wasn't herself. She paced the floor and wrung her hands. Her face was a pale color.

"Rose, is there something wrong?"

"I need to talk to you, Harry. I need to tell you something… are you hungry?"

"Dinner can wait. What is it?"

"Please sit down."

Rose pulled out a chair for Harry to sit in, before serving him the simple meal on a white dish.

"Thank you… now what is this all about?"

The nervous woman sat in the chair across the table from Harry. At first she couldn't look him in the eye.

"Rose, tell me. Please."

"Do you promise you won't dash for the door as soon as I tell you?"

"What could possibly be so terrible that I would do that?"

"Some men would…"

"I'm not like most men, Rose."

"I know that. And that's why I am telling you this now, so you don't find out the hard way later on. You deserve to know."

"Well?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Rose placed her starched white napkin in her lap. Finally she looked at Harry.

"I'm with child, Harry. Three and a half months."

Harry searched her face, as if waiting for more.

"Is that it?"

Rose shook her head yes, waiting for the blows to begin.

"Well… that's fabulous, Rose! Obviously its not mine… but can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Where is the father?"

Rose wanted to go into Harry's arms, and tell him the whole story about Jack and the Titanic, her mother and Cal. But she couldn't. She just gave him a simple answer.

"He's gone… he's dead. I couldn't save him and now he's gone."

Harry was out of his chair and kneeling next to Rose before she finished her sentences.

"Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry. I'm going to be here for you. Anything you need, just let me know, okay?"

Rose shook her head in agreement, still visibly shaken up. Yes, Harry was different. This she knew.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: My apologies in advance for any errors of any kind you may see. Also for the long wait!

Disclaimer: I do not own any original plots by James Cameron or history.

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As the weeks began to pass, Rose's appetite grew along with her stomach. She found work as a waitress at the little café Harry took her to that first day. And, just like she suspected, he remained by her side throughout all of it. He came over more frequently now, nearly everyday.

On some days, Harry was dreadfully tired. He woke long before the sun and worked until it sank into the ocean. He came to see Rose nonetheless, no matter how exhausted or cranky he was. Rose had a way about her; something Harry gathered she inherited from her father the way she talked about him. She could make Harry feel at ease and make all the sorrows and harrows of the day wash away so he wouldn't give them a second thought. He liked that quality about her, loved it even. Harry found himself growing increasingly fond of Rose, more and more each day until it reached the point where he couldn't bare going a day without seeing or speaking to her. She and her forthcoming child were constantly on his mind. He'd made them the center of his life. Though the baby obviously wasn't his, Harry couldn't wait for the child's arrival. He wanted to help Rose raise he or she when the baby came.

Rose entered her ninth month of pregnancy, her sixth month in California. She knew the baby would be here any day now, but still the young woman pushed on. Rose wanted to get in to work as much as she could. She knew money would be tight after the baby came, even with the money she saved up. She sympathy for the baby. He or she would never know its father like she had. Rose's father William was the first person in her life to understand and love her for who she was. Ruth always wished Rose would be something she wasn't. Rose often thought of her mother in the early days after Titanic, but rarely now. What was she doing now? Was Ruth still mooching off the Hockley family? Ruth DeWitt-Bukater was alone in the world; but she belonged with people like the Hockleys. Her daughter did not. Rose was right where she belonged. She was sorry Jack wouldn't be there to support and believe in their child like her father was for her. Rose knew Jack would have enjoyed raising a baby. Their child would never personally know his father. The thought broke Rose's heart. She would see to it her child had a father, however, and she saw that sort of figure in Harry.

Harry traveled into town one afternoon to visit with Rose on her brief lunch break. He smiled when he saw her through the front window, shuffling back and forth on her tired, swollen feet. She was at the counter now, adding up a ticket, when Harry surprised her from behind.

"Surprise!" he whispered in her ear.

"Harry! I wasn't expecting you until later!"

"I wanted to surprise you. Are you on break?"

"Give me just a moment."

Harry settled himself at a table near the front window, basking in the sunlight that streamed in. He watched Rose as she checked on a few more customers, offering them more coffee or warm chocolate. Finally she poured two mugs of the hot liquid before joining Harry.

"How is work?" she wondered.

"Slow today. Are you almost through?"

"Yes," Rose nodded. "Albert is allowing me to leave early on account of my appointment this afternoon."

"Hopefully one of your last, huh?" Harry and Rose both smiled.

"Harry…" Rose began. "Would you help me raise this child? I realize it isn't your own and it may seem awkward at the beginning. I'll understand if you don't want too. I just don't --"

"Rose, nothing would make me happier"  
The two of them chatted about the baby until the both of them reluctantly returned to work. Rose departed from the café early in the afternoon. She opted to walk to her doctor's office, despite her tired feet, located a mere five blocks away. She tucked her hands into her coat pockets, setting out on her journey. Along the way Rose thought about how cold it would be in New York at that time of early. Early January in Santa Monica, though there was a distinct chill to the air, was no worse then the Big Apple would have been on a brisk fall day. Soon, her thoughts drifted to Molly. Rose wondered how she was getting along. Just fine, no doubt, as Margaret Brown was a woman who could bounce back from anything almost in an instant. The last time Rose heard from her friend was in the first few days of December, when she received a lovely gift and birthday card from her. Rose's eighteenth birthday came and went. Harry's surprise to her of a small cake and a book she'd been longing to read as well as Molly's gift were the only positives. Beyond those tiny things the day was just like any other. Jack surely would have been twenty one by now. Rose thought about him so often,. She questioned in her mind if he was a winter baby like herself and their child both were. Jack never did tell her his birthday. Tears rolled down Rose's cheeks when she realized yet again how little she had actually known about Jack Dawson. Yet what she learned about him in those few short days was enough for her to know she wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him.

Rose wiped her eyes dry with the sleeve of her coat. She yanked open the hospital door roughly, suddenly in a different mood. But when she stepped into the waiting area, her pain became joy as she learned what was waiting.

"Rose Dawson! Don't you have any common sense left, young lady? Everyone knows very well a woman as far along as yourself should not be out of bed, let alone walking around the city by herself!"

Rose was ready to curse the person who was giving her a speech something similar to what her mother would have said, but when she saw who delivered the words a great smile crossed her lips.

"Molly Brown! What are you doing in California?"

"What am I doing here? Really, Rose, you'd think I didn't know anyone out here the way you talk!"

"You didn't come out here just to see me, did you? How did you know I'd be here?"

"Dr. Watson here is in contact with Dr. Mercer. "

"Oh, really? How did that come about?"

"Let's just say a little birdie."

"Does that little birdie go by the name of Molly?"

Margaret Brown laughed her huge booming laugh. "You caught me! You never said too much about the child in your letters, just some dashing young man. I had to know how you were coming along."

Rose's cheeks turned the color of her fiery red hair. "My apologies. Harry's helped me a great deal since I've been here. I really do owe quite a bit to him. I'm so glad to see you, however."

" As am I. Let's not keep Dr. Watson waiting, hm?"

Dr. Watson told Rose what she was longing to hear. He couldn't be one hundred percent positive, but he was almost certain that her child was well on its way to entering the world. In fact, he would be surprised if she wasn't back in the hospital by the end of the week. Molly was excited to hear the news. She was shocked by how large Rose was at first. The last mental image she had of the teenager was of a slim figure in a much-to-large dress the day she left for California. Now she would be here for the arrival of Rose's baby! Molly was fairly certain Rose wouldn't let her offer a penny, but Molly would make up for that in other ways. She was, after all, a mother herself, and knew how to handle these things.

When Rose's appointment ended, the two of them caught a taxi back to Rose's apartment. Harry was there waiting for her, but he hadn't anticipated her bringing along company. Rose introduced her best friend to the man she was so very fond of. Mrs. Brown instantly saw why Rose became so attached to Mr. Calvert. He looked strikingly close to Jack Dawson. Their features were so similar… if Molly didn't know better she would have swore that Harry Calvert was Jack Dawson's long lost brother. Harry prepared dinner for the three of them while the women chatted, catching up on the latest between the two of them. Over supper, Molly complimented Harry on his wonderful cooking. Rose smiled, thankful that the two people who meant the most to her at that moment were both together finally and acting as though they known each other for years. After dinner was over, Molly offered to clean up so Rose could tell Harry how her doctor appointment went. She'd put off the subject, but a curious Harry wanted to know how things went.

Before Rose could go any further into detail about her visit with the doctor, she felt a sudden sharp pain in her side. She let out a small yelp like a scolded child and clutched her abdominal area with both of her hands. The look of pain on her face worried Harry greatly. He flew across the short distance between him and Rose and was at her side before Molly could blink. The dishes were left in the wash basin unnoticed as Molly joined the two of them on the sofa.

"Rose, honey, what is it?" wondered Harry.

"I…it hurts…." was all she could choke out. "S-s-so bad!"

Harry frantically passed his eyes from Rose to Molly… searching her face for answers. Mrs. Brown checked all of Rose's symptoms, nodding to herself. Harry watched her doing so.

"W-well? What's wrong with her?"

"Rose is going in to labor, Harry."

"Shouldn't we get her to see a doctor?"

"She'll never make it in her current state! No, you must go fetch him. My man and my car are both downstairs. Tell him to take you."

"Can't I send someone for him?"

"No, you must go. Hurry, Harry!"

The young man sent a worried glance in Rose's way before hurrying off. Margaret tended to Rose. When the young girl was calm enough to speak better, she told Molly she had something to tell her.

"Molly, you must not speak of Jack to Harry."

"Why not, Rose?"

"Harry doesn't know anything about him, beyond the fact that he is the father of my child and he is gone. But please, don't say anything!"

"You must tell him. He has a right to know."

"I know…. I-I just can't tell him. Not yet. Please, Molly? I'm asking you as a friend."

"All right. Not a word about Jack Dawson to Mr. Calvert."

"Why the formalities?" questioned Rose, with a slight smile on her face.

Molly chuckled at Rose's ability to make light of the situation. "You remind me so much of myself at your age. Not a word of Jack to Harry. Okay?"

"Thank you, Molly."

About half an hour after he left, Harry arrived with Dr. Watson in tow. Molly burst through the bedroom door, ready to curse up a storm for Harry taking so long.

"My apologies, Mrs. Brown. I was dining with my wife this evening when Mr. Calvert informed me of Miss Dawson's current state."

"Thank you for coming, Dr. Watson. Miss Dawson is in the bedroom." Margaret showed the doctor into Rose's room. Harry wasn't invited. He, instead, paced Rose's living room nervously. He bit his lip, ran his hand through his shaggy blonde hair several times. Before he knew it the hours began passing, slowly at first, but he busied himself with the dishes. When they were dried and put away he found other various chores Rose had yet to do. Her small apartment was thoroughly cleaned before Harry even realized he cleaned the entire thing from ceiling to floor. With nothing left to do, Harry's mind soon wandered to Rose's soon-to-be born child. Harry ventured into his or her room. Would it be a girl? Would it be a boy? He meant to ask Rose what she thought she would have, and what she wanted to name him or her. He'd been so busy, it slipped his mind more than once. Rose did the child's room in neutral colors. It was more furnished then her own room, which contained only her bed, a night stand, her dresser, and the bench he bought her. Rose, Rose, Rose… her name sounded like sweet honey to his mind. He could see himself spending the rest of his life with her, if she'd let him. He knew she wanted to do many things with her life yet, and he didn't object to any of it. Many people thought a woman with ambitions ought to stay at home in the parlor entertaining guests, planning out dinner menus, and practicing her needlework. Rose had a fire in her, a fire that sparked his own. She wanted to go experience things before she settled down in one place. She was so young… only eighteen but Harry loved her. He thought some people used the word too liberally. In his twenty-five years the only woman he found himself saying the words to was his mother years ago. Rose was different from other women…

A sudden outburst in the bedroom next door shook him from his thoughts. Following shortly Harry heard a loud cry.

"Harry?"

He hurried into the living area, where Molly was waiting for him. He stood there, his face a pale white, his hair tousled, his shirt wrinkly.

"You look like you just survived a wind storm!" Molly's laughter filled the room.

"Can I see her? How's the baby?"

"She wants to see you." Molly stepped to the side, allowing for Harry to enter the bedroom. "See for yourself, hm?"

When Harry stepped into the bedroom, Dr. Watson was just placing the last of his medical tools into his bag. He found Rose lying in the simple bed she found at a used store. In her arms, wrapped tightly in a white blanket, was a little bundle. She grinned at Harry. He stepped closer, but at the same time kept his distance. Rose held out her hand for Harry.

"He's just a baby. He won't bite."

"He?"

Rose nodded. "Mmm-hmm. It's a boy, Harry!"

Rose pulled the blanket back a bit from the child's face so Harry could see. A small round face was underneath.

"He looks so peaceful… he's beautiful, dear."

"What's his name, Rose?" wondered Molly. Rose looked at Molly, almost afraid to see 'that' name in front of Harry. She had to get used to it, however, because she would be saying it nearly every day for the rest of her life.

"Jack. Jack Thomas Dawson."

"What a good, strong name for such a little boy. You've got a name to grow into little man," Harry told him. He sat beside Rose and the baby on her bed, now more comfortable around the both of them.

"Thomas was my father's middle name," Rose said. "And after Mr. Andrews, of course."

"That's wonderful! Truly!" exclaimed Molly. Mrs. Brown had been as fond of the shipbuilder as Rose. She was heartbroken when she heard he had perished with his beautiful floating palace. "I'm sure he would be honored to have your child named after him."

"I miss him… and my father," stated Rose.

"I'm sorry they were both taken away, Rose, but you have a beautiful little child here now with you to take care of and to love. He will always love you, no matter what."

"He will, won't he? He's so beautiful… he looks like…" Rose was about to say the baby looked like his father, Jack, but couldn't in front of Harry.

"Who? Who does he look like?"

"Like me when I was a child, from what I've seen in photographs."

Harry kissed her forehead. "I'm sure he does. You did good, Rosie."

Molly decided that moment would be the best time to take her leave. She said goodbye to the over-joyed youngsters, promising to come back the next day when Rose was rested and her child was more awake. 


	9. Chapter 9

The Californian beach was unusually deserted at this time of year. The chilly wind blew in from the ocean, making the water unseasonably cold. April in California generally meant everyone emerging from their winter hideouts to socialize and be merry once again after a long winter mostly spent indoors, despite how different the weather was here from the rest of the nearly frozen country. For one family, however, April merely meant the annual trip to the beach. There they gazed out over the water, remembering and praying.

The cool wind blew her curly red hair about her shoulders and she shivered. Rose wasn't going to let a little cold weather keep her from doing something she felt she had to do. She was here in memory of Jack. Those few short days she spent with the man of her dreams weren't going to leave her overnight, and for that she was happy. Those days were among the happiest she ever spent on earth. She held her face to the sky, her eyes closed. For a few moments the clouds parted and the sun came through. The rays of light warmed up her face. Rose knew that was his way of telling her she was keeping her promise that he knew she remembered him but was living her life the way he wanted. Rose looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. The baby felt the wind across its little face and snuggled in closer to its mother. Rose tucked the blanket more securely around her child.

"How's the little one, Mrs. Calvert?" wondered her husband, Harry, as he wrapped his arms around her middle.

"Just fine, Mr. Calvert. As snug as a bug in a rug."

Harry smiled as he kissed his wife on the cheek then glanced at his child. The sounds of laughter and splashes before them made them look up.

"Jack!" Rose called. "Get out of the water before you catch a cold!"

The toddler giggled as he ran up the beach towards his parents.

"Can I go play, Mama?"

Rose nodded. "Just don't go to far. We're leaving soon."

Four-year-old Jack took off in the opposite direction. He stopped temporarily to roll his pants down and slip his shoes back on. A few moments later Jack found a large chuck of driftwood to play with.

Harry Calvert turned to his wife and newborn child after watching the little one play for a minute or two.

"Do you think he looks much like his real father?"

Rose pondered for a moment, debating whether or not she ought to tell Harry at last about little Jack's biological father.

"I think he looks exactly like his father. His shaggy blonde hair, his beautiful ocean blue eyes. His personality is nearly the same. But I think he has a lot of his other daddy in him as well," she finally stated.

Hearing this out a large smile on Harry's face. Jack Dawson-Calvert was not his naturally, but he had loved that little boy since the moment he laid eyes on him the day he was born. He proposed to Rose that day, not wanting little Jack to grow up without a father. He also didn't want everyone to talk about Rose the way they once had because she was pregnant and didn't have a ring on her finger. She wasn't going to be the topic of discussion in a bad way in that little café she used to work in if Harry could help it. Happily, Rose had said yes and six months later they were married. Rose felt it best to wait a few years to have another baby, so they could get settled first and put some money away. Rose even took up acting on the side for a while before she made it her permanent career. She was on her way to the top when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter. Rose stared in a play in the early stages of her pregnancy before taking it easy in the third trimester. Little Anna was born on April 10th, 1917.

Five long years had past since that fateful day in 1912. Rose remembered every single moment she shared with the love of her life. Someday, she felt, she could would share some of those memories with Harry. But for now, she was content with her little family and her life. She was content with fulfilling the promise she made Jack. Their son was the last thing he gave to her before he was taken so suddenly. But it was through Jack Thomas Dawson-Calvert that Rose learned everything about her long-gone lover that she otherwise never would have known. Little Jack was more alike his father then she could ever have known. That moment she meet Jack changed her forever. The moment Titanic hit an iceberg changed her forever. And the moment she lost Jack changed her forever. All it took were a few short, precious moments for her life to completely change and make her into what she become. Rose was finally at peace with her life, and for that she was eternally grateful for those moments.


End file.
